The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1887-01-06

| Lords table. l remember when the
Master Street hospital in Philadelphia was
opened during the war telegram came
saying: "There will be three hun
dred wounded men tonight, be ready
to take care of them," and from
my church there went some twenty or
thirty men and women to look after these
| poor wounded fellows. AS they came, some
| from one part of the land, some from an
other, no one asked whether this man was
| from Oregon, or Massachusetts, or Mime
sofa, or from New York. There was a
wounded soldier, and the only question was
how to take off the rags most gently, and
| put on the bandage, and administer the cor
| dial. And when soul comes to God, He
| does not ask where you came from or what
your ancestry was. Healing for all your
wounds. Pardon for all your guilt. Com
| fort for all your troubles.
Then, also, counsel you, if you want to
| get back, to quit all your bad associations.
One unholy intimacy will fill your soul with
| moral distemper. In all the ages of the
church there has not been an instance
where man kept one evil associate and
! was reformed. Among the 1,400, 0O0,0 Of
the race not one instance. Go home to-day,
| open your desk, take out letter paper,
stamp and envelope, and then write let
| ter something like this:
my old companions; I start this day for
Heaven. Until I am persuaded you will join
me in this farewell"
Then sign your name, and send the letter
with the first post. Give up your bad COM
panions, or give up Heaven. 1t is not ten
| bad companions that destroy a man. nor
| five bad companions, nor three bad COM
| panions, but one. What chance is there for
| that young man saw along the street, four
| or five young men with him, hating in front
OF grog-shop, urging him to go in, he re-
| sisting, violently resisting until after
| awhile they forced him to go ins 1t was a
| summer night, and the door was left open,
| and saw the process. They held him fast,
and they put the cup to his lips, and they
| forced down the strong drink. What
| chance is there for such young man!
| counsel you; also, seek Christian advice.
| Every Christian man is bound to help you.
| If you find no other human ear willing to
listen to your story of struggle, come to
| me, and will, by every sympathy of my
| heart, and every prayer, and every toll of
| my hand, stand beside you in the struggle
| for reformation; and, as I hope to have
| my own sins forgiven, and hope to be ac-
| quilted at the Judgment seat of Christ, /
will not betray you. First of all, seek
God-then seek Christian counsel. Gather
| up all the energies of body, mind and soul,
and, appealing to God for success, declare
| this day everlasting war against all drink
ing habits, all gaming practices, all houses
| of sin. Half-and-half work will amount to
| nothing; it must be a Waterloo. Shrink
back now, and you are lost-push on and
you are saved. A Spartan General fell at
the very moment of victory, but he dipped
his finger in his own blood and wrote on a
| rock near which he was dying: "Sparta
has conquered" Though your struggle to
| get rid of sin may seem almost death
struggle, you can dip your finger in your
| own blood and write on the Rock of Ages:
"Victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. {"
| Oh, what glorious news it would be for
| some of these young men to send home to
| their parents in the country these holidays
which are coming. They go to the post
Office every day or two to see if there are
any letters from you. How anxious they
are to hear! You might send them for a
| holiday present this season book from one
| OF our best publishing houses, or complete
| wardrobe from the importers palace; it
| would not please them half as much as the
| news you might send home tomorrow that
| you had given your heart to God. know
| how it is IN the country. The night comes
| on. The cattle stand under the rack,
| through which burst the trusses of hay
The horses. just having frisked up
| from the meadow, stand knee deep
in the bright straw that invites them to
lie down and rest. The perch of the howell
is full of fowl, their feet warm under their
feathers In the farmhouse at night no
candle is lighted, for the flames clap their
hands about the great black log, and shake
the shadow of the group up and down the
wall. Father and mother sit there for half
an hour, saying nothing. I wonder what
they are thinking of. After awhile father
breaks the silence and says: "Well, /
wonder where our boy is in town to-
| nights' and mother answers: &c In no bad
place, l warrant you; we always could
trust him when ne was home, and since he
has been away there have been so many
| prayers offered for bim we can trust him
STILL" Then at eight o'clock-for they re-
/ tire early in the country-they kneel down
and commend you to that God who watches
| in country and in town, on the and land on
| the sea-
| Some one said to q Grecian General /:
| "What was the pPoudest moment in your
| llfe!" He thought moment and said ::
1.-THE proudest moment in my life was
when sent home word to my parents that
had gained the victory" And the proud
est and most brilliant moment in your life
| will be the moment when you can send
word to your parents that you have con-
| quered your evil habits, by the grace of
God, and become eternal victor. Oh, de-
spise not parental anxietyl
The time will come when you will have
neither father or mother, and you will go
around the place where they used to watch
you, and find them gone from the house,
and gone from the field, and gone from the
neighborhood. Cry as loud for forgiveness
as you may over the mound in the church.
yard, they will not answer. Dead! Dead |
And then you will take out the white lock
OF hair that was cut from your mothers
| brow just before they buried her, and you
will take the cane with which your father
used to walk, and you will think and think,
| and wish that you had done just as they
wanted you to, and would give the world
| it you had never thrust pang through
| their dear old hearts.
| God pity the young man who has-brought
disgrace on his fathers namel God pity
the young man who has broken his moth
| er's hearth Better if he had never been
born-better if in the first hour of his life,
| instead of being laid against the warm